


Glitching Leaf

by louieducks



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Blood and Injury, Dissociation, Gen, Phase Four (Gorillaz)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25688563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louieducks/pseuds/louieducks
Summary: He touches his face. It makes him panic more. He doesn't feel real. Everything feels plastic.He grips at his arms, but turns to his mirror. He watches somebody in the mirror. It doesn't feel like him; he knows it should be. But it doesn't feel like it.!!! Trigger warning !!!Story handles and describes themes of disreality. Please note this story could trigger disreality, depersonalization, and/or disassociation. Blood is briefly mentioned.Story takes place around 2016-2017, but time is purposely meant to feel skewed.I hope you all enjoy!
Relationships: Noodle & Stuart "2D" Pot
Kudos: 15





	Glitching Leaf

He watched his hands, but it all felt like a memory. Something that'd already happened. He isn't here right now. He's gone.

The man flexes his fingers. He doesn't understand; he made them move? How? He shouldn't be able to; they aren't connected. Those aren't his hands.

He realized what was happening. It has happened before. He doesn't want it to. He doesn't want to be gone again. 

He tugs his hair. He feels something, but more than anything he feels fuzzy. Disconnected. Floaty. 

The man feels gone.

He touches his face. It makes him panic more. He doesn't feel real. Everything feels plastic.

He feels numb. He falls off his bed (when was he on his bed?) and is startled feeling the ground. He stands up but when he looks down, he can't tell what way is up.

The man feels gone.

He grips at his arms, but turns to his mirror. He watches somebody in the mirror. It doesn't feel like him; he knows it should be. But it doesn't feel like it.

He's getting fuzzier. He thinks he's walking somewhere. He's somewhere brighter now. He thinks it might be a bathroom. 

He looks down and sees blood in the sink. Was he coughing it up? Did he choke on it? Is he dying?

Is he gone? 

He touches all over what he thinks might be his face. He's touching whatever the thing in the mirror is. Because it can't be him. It can't be. 

He looks down again. The blood is on his hands too. It's a startling red. It stands out too much. He thinks it smells too strong, but now he can't breathe. 

Something loud happens. He's on the ground now. He feels like he's in the sky. He feels like he's in a game about to be shut down.

He doesn't feel like he exists. 

He is gone.

The man doesn't know how long he lays there. But the floor is cold and solid. The lights are bright. The blood smells strong and looks shocking. 

Soon he sees somebody. Somebody that doesn't register, but he knows that he knows her. He's starting to feel like he isn't gone.

She looks worried. Is she okay? What happened?

He feels something cold - it startles him. Everything feels a bit clearer. It feels overwhelming.

He realizes she's talking. He blinks at her. Noise isn't registering. It seems she realized that.

She pulls out something. He didn't catch what it was.

Something loud fills the room. He jumps without realizing it. He thinks that sound might be him. Not him now.

Him from a while ago. He doesn't remember how long. Maybe ten years. Or maybe just... seven. Maybe two. Maybe last week. He can't remember.

She's looking at him again. The man doesn't feel as fuzzy anymore. The music stops for a moment. He feels a hand. It's scary. He doesn't feel like he's here; how is anybody touching him?

He twitches without meaning to. His hands feel numb and wet from ice, legs cold and solid from the floor. He hears music and talking. He smells blood and perfume and cleansers. 

The man isn't as gone as before. 

He's still disconnected. He thinks he's untethered. But he has some things tying him down now. He looks up at her. He realizes he hasn't said hi. That's quite rude of him.

"Oh, hello, Noodle... how long you been here?"

The man isn't gone. He was for a while, but not anymore. 

He was gone. He will be gone again. And he will come back again.

He was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> First Gorillaz fic! Please tell ms what you think! I'm 100% open to constructive crit. 
> 
> I based this around personal experience; sorry if it seems unrealistic to anyone, I suppose!
> 
> This was absolutely based off of sleeping powder, taking away the drug aspects.
> 
> I wrote this at 7am in 20 minutes and haven't slept yet; I'll do that now. This is also unedited, btw.
> 
> Also yes, the title is a lyric from mango hibiscus sweet tea, thanks for noticing.


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